


Along the North Coast

by circ_bamboo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Fluffersmutter, Multi, Road Trips, Threesome - F/M/M, Tropes, oh no there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:51:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circ_bamboo/pseuds/circ_bamboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha catches up with Sam and Steve somewhere near Cleveland, Ohio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Along the North Coast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [audrey1nd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/audrey1nd/gifts).



> Written for the Marvel POC Exchange. Thanks to F1 for reassuring me that the basic story was okay, and F2 for beta work.

Sam was driving their latest rental car--a Chevy Equinox, which they were not getting again if he had the choice because it handled like shit and got the mileage of a car twice its size--when Steve got a text message, the phone’s buzzing causing him to jump.

“Where are we?” Steve asked after he’d swiped his phone open.

“Just outside of Cleveland, Ohio, on I-90, heading west,” Sam said, pointing to the sign that said they were almost in Painesville.

“Ahh,” Steve said, and texted something back.

“Natasha?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” The phone buzzed again, and Steve tapped on the screen. “She says to drive to the West 117th Street exit, head north, and turn left on Lake, and there will be a hotel there.”

“What kind of hotel?”

“I’ll ask.”

It turned out to be a Days Inn, as they found out almost an hour and a half later. “Goddamn road construction,” Sam muttered as the clerk tapped away at her computer. Natasha had already paid for the room, under the name that was currently on Sam’s ID and credit cards.

The desk clerk made sympathetic noises, looking up briefly. “Yeah, everything got ugly last week when they blew up the Inner Belt bridge.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Sam said, although it didn’t really; was an inner belt kind of like the Inner Loop? Not important. He accepted a pair of key-cards and a copy of the receipt and nodded his thanks to the clerk.

Steve came in the side door carrying their luggage, and Sam admired the corded muscles in his forearms under the rolled-up sleeves of his plaid shirt. “We’re in room 208,” he said after he realized that Steve was looking at him expectantly.

Steve nodded, and they headed to the stairwell.

“I guess Lake Erie isn’t that far from here,” Sam said. “Doubt we’ll be able to see it from the room, but maybe we can take a walk down there later.”

“Is it worth it?” Steve asked, and even though his face wasn’t visible, Sam knew his eyebrow was raised.

“Dunno,” Sam said. The extent of what he knew about Cleveland and Lake Erie was that there was a nearby river that had caught on fire in the 1960s, and that the city was generally referred to as the Mistake on the Lake. “Probably. I mean, it’s a Great Lake.”

“Let’s hope it’s at least pretty good.”

Sam chuckled, even though the joke was well below Steve’s usual standards. “You want dinner once we get the stuff into the room? We can order in or go out.”

“Sure, either.”

The room had only one bed, but it was king-sized, and they’d shared before. It wouldn’t be a problem.

Really, it wouldn’t. They were on a mission, and he’d done a good job of keeping what he felt on the downlow, he thought. Nothing had changed, anyway. He threw his duffel bag on the chair by the window and peered out. “We’re facing Lake Street,” he said. “Not much of a view.”

Steve set his duffel bag down as well and moved to stand next to him. “Nope. Well, we’re only here to sleep. What kind of food do you want?”

They peered at Sam’s phone as he scrolled through the local restaurant options, Steve’s face mere inches from Sam’s, the faint scent of the soap he’d used that morning little more than a note in Sam’s nose. “Grilled cheese sounds good,” Steve said, pointing at one option.

“Let’s do it.”

And they would have, except apparently Melt was an absurdly popular local joint and the wait was almost two and a half hours at that point. Instead they grabbed Chipotle across the street: two burritos for Steve, one for Sam, a bowl for Natasha if she showed up, and a bag of chips and guac to share.

They ate in their room, the burritos disappearing as rapidly as they always did, and Sam leaned back against the headboard of the bed, pleasantly full, and switched on the television.

“Oh, hey, baseball,” Steve said as Sam flicked through the channels, and he obligingly stopped on SportsTime Ohio. It didn’t really matter what was on, as he was probably going to end up napping anyway.

A half hour later, Sam’s eyes were barely open, but he could see Steve eyeing Natasha’s bowl, and he was about to tell him just to eat it when a knock came on the door.

“I hope everyone’s decent,” she said, striding in without waiting for either of them to open the door. She looked impeccably gorgeous, even after several days of travel; her hair was curly instead of flat-ironed straight, and Sam liked it better that way, even though he’d never tell her. Dropping a giant hiking-style backpack on the floor, she looked at both of them in turn. “Only one bed?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I can take the floor. It’s no problem.”

Natasha snorted. “It’s a king-sized bed. We can cuddle up just fine. Is that mine?” She pointed to the foil-covered bowl, and Steve nodded. She snatched it and the nearby fork and dug in quickly, sitting next to Steve in the pair of chairs, her feet up on his knee. “I suppose you finished the guac,” she said, around a mouthful of black beans and chicken.

“His fault,” Sam said, although it wasn’t, and Steve just shook his head, wrapping his hand around her ankle and shaking lightly. She nudged his elbow with her toe but didn’t stop eating.

She was just about finished, and the Cleveland team was losing 3-1, when Steve excused himself briefly to use the bathroom. The door had barely shut before Nat was suddenly on the bed next to him, and Sam had half a second to wonder why before she said, “Seriously, it’s been three weeks since I saw you last and you still haven’t jumped his bones?”

Sam shot up to a sitting position and sputtered. “How--why--what--Natasha!”

“Shh,” she said, “we’ve only got about ten seconds to finish this conversation but it’s pretty damn obvious that both of you want to. Why haven’t you made a move?”

“Because--because he’s--” He could do better than this. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “He’s not interested, he’s kinda out of my league, and I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to wait for a guy from the forties to make a move on you?”

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “Those are stupid reasons.”

The door to the bathroom opened before Sam could protest, and Steve came out, his brow furrowed. Sam watched him sit on the edge of the bed, by Natasha’s feet, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You do know I have super-soldier hearing, right?” Steve said, turning the television off and setting the remote aside.

Sam bit his tongue so he didn’t say anything stupid. Natasha didn’t say anything, either, but she looked contrite. Very contrite. A little _too_ contrite, if Sam had anything to say about it.

“You planned this.” So much for not saying anything stupid.

“Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Steve said, almost before Natasha had finished speaking.

She shrugged. “You two needed a kick in the pants. Probably still do. If I left this room right now, what would happen?”

“Awkward suggestions that we forget this ever happened?” Sam said, pulling his feet up and resting his elbows on his knees.

Natasha shot him a glare, and he stared back at her levelly.

“What if we don’t want you to leave?” Steve said suddenly.

That apparently threw Natasha for a loop; she blinked twice, her face completely blank. She turned to Sam, who said, “I can work with that.”

He could. Definitely could. He’d have to be a much bigger fool than he was not to have noticed that he’d fallen in with not one but two gorgeous superheroes, and he’d been relatively comfortable with being attracted to more than one gender for a while now. Two people at once, well, that was a little new, but if he was going to, it ought to be with Steve and Natasha.

That is . . . “I mean, if you’re into it,” he said, brushing his fingers against her wrist.

She didn’t pull away, which he’d been half expecting; instead she turned her hand over, grabbed his wrist, and, telegraphing every move, flipped him onto his back in the middle of the bed, his head a couple inches from Steve’s leg, her face above his. “You think I wouldn’t be?”

Sam swallowed, because her breasts were _right there_ , and said, “I think you get to decide for yourself.”

He swallowed again, half a second later, because Steve’s fingers were cupping his jaw gently, and Steve said, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Natasha said, not really an answer from her tone, but she sat back, conveniently placing that perfectly curvy ass of hers right on top of Sam’s dick, which had definitely decided to get involved in the proceedings. “Well, I know what my answer is.” She rested a hand in the middle of Sam’s chest and looked up at Steve.

Sam did as well, and the smile on Steve’s face could have lit the whole fucking room. “Why are you so gorgeous?” he said, and then squeezed his eyes shut, because that was another goddamn stupid thing to say.

“Vita-Rays,” Steve said, his fingers moving down to the side of Sam’s neck. Sam shivered.

“Have you done this before?” Natasha said, and Sam opened his eyes to make sure she was talking to Steve and not him.

“Yes,” Steve said.

“Which part?” Natasha asked, her head tilted to one side.

“Pretty much everything that could happen here,” he said, indicating the three of them with a looping gesture, “I’ve done. Well, at least the basics.”

“You ever had sex with a black man?” Sam asked, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Yeah,” Steve said, one side of his mouth ticked up. “He wasn’t as good-looking as you, though.”

“Not many are,” Sam said, grinning back. “So, wait, _everything_ that might happen?”

“Well, no, not everything, but enough.”

“Huh,” Natasha said.

“Are we back to that?” Steve said, mock-exasperated. “You caught me off guard!”

“Sure, Steve,” she said with a grin.

“You gonna give me a chance to prove it?” Steve said.

Natasha shrugged. “If you want.”

“You might have to let Sam up first.”

“Nah,” Sam said. “I’m cool right here, if you want to maybe make her squirm a little.”

Natasha let out a short bark of laughter and Steve just grinned. “I can do that,” he said.

It took a few seconds for Natasha to realize that yes, Steve did know what he was doing, but Sam could pinpoint the moment when she gave up enough control to let Steve do his thing. Whatever his thing was, though, Sam wanted a piece of that, because Natasha was making the occasional small noise in the back of her throat and was tensing and relaxing the muscles in her thighs rhythmically. It was a subtle movement that had her rocking back and forth slightly, but it counted, at least according to Sam’s dick.

He reached out and rested his hands lightly on her hips, his fingers cupping the curve of her ass, and she broke the kiss and said to Steve, “Now kiss him.”

“That good, huh?” Sam said.

Her breasts were still heaving as she gulped down deep breaths, but she nodded and managed to say, “And I want to watch.”

“Can’t disappoint the lady,” Sam said, looking up at Steve.

“Never. Here, sit up,” Steve said, one of his hands going to Sam’s back and gently helping him lever up. 

The change in position left Sam with a lap full of Natasha and Steve’s warm bulk at his side, but rather than feeling hemmed in, he felt . . . safe. And excited. Very excited.

Turning his head a few degrees to the left, he found Steve’s lips with his own and--oh.

Oh.

Yeah, not only did Steve know what he was doing, but he was verrrrrry good at it. Sam had never considered himself a particularly small guy but Steve’s hands wrapped practically all the way around Sam’s head, thumbs rubbing just under his jaw. Like he’d done with Natasha, Steve was completely in control of the kiss, but he was more than willing to wait until Sam was okay with that before he pushed any harder.

And, well, Sam was definitely okay with that. He inhaled through his nose and tilted his head a little more to the side and let Steve work his magic.

A second pair of hands, somewhat smaller but no less strong, started stroking down his chest until they reached the hem of his t-shirt and burrowed under. Sam jerked when she dragged her fingertips over his skin a little too lightly, and somehow--he’d never quite be sure--managed to knock Steve off the bed. Since he’d been using Steve as a backrest, that meant that he fell flat on his back, and Natasha fell onto him, knocking the air out of him with a whoosh.

“What the hell just happened?” Steve said as Sam tried to relearn how to breathe, which was even more difficult because he couldn’t keep himself from laughing.

“I guess Sam’s ticklish,” Natasha said as she rolled off and sat primly on the edge of the bed.

Sam couldn’t respond-- _of course I’m ticklish,_ he wanted to say. _Betcha so’s the super soldier_ \--because he was laughing too hard, but he managed to flap a hand at them.

“The mood better not be broken, Wilson,” Natasha said darkly.

“Hey,” Sam managed between wheezes, “you’re the one who started it.” He twisted around until he was sitting against the head of the bed, and somehow managed to calm himself down to the occasional chuckle. “If you can’t grope me properly, it’s your fault, not mine.”

Natasha’s eyebrow shot upward and she was just about to make a response when Steve stood up and unbuttoned his shirt; he’d been unrolling the sleeves while sitting on the ground. Sam watched as Steve shrugged out of the button-down and divested himself of his T-shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion. “I don’t think the mood’s broken,” Steve said, one eyebrow quirking.

“Nope,” Sam said, his mouth dry and his eyes wide, because although he’d seen Steve shirtless about a hundred times so far, this time he got to look all he wanted, and then _touch_. “Not broken at all.”

“Not one bit,” Natasha said. She held out a hand, and Steve sat, scooting himself onto the bed between them.

Sam found himself staring as Natasha claimed Steve's lips for hers, tracing along the absolutely-perfect lines carved into Steve's abs, visible even while he sat down. Steve noticed him staring and pulled away to say with a crooked grin, “Yep, thank the super soldier serum.”

“You gonna tell me you didn't get laid before Project Rebirth?” Sam said, one eyebrow raising in disbelief.

Steve shrugged. “Well, I did okay.”

“I bet more than okay," Sam said.

“We’ve all been to the Smithsonian exhibit. You were an adorable little twink and we all know it,” Natasha said, trailing her fingers up Steve’s spine.

He shivered, but asked, “Twink?”

“You know how you used to look? That.”

Steve chuckled, but it turned to a gasp halfway through as Natasha bit his earlobe. “Now when are _you_ going to take off your shirt?” she asked Sam.

“When you do,” he said.

She sat back on her heels, stripping off her black t-shirt to reveal a pink bra with stylized black roses on it. The upper curves of her breasts rose enticingly above the material, and Sam spent a good long moment hoping she was wearing matching underwear. 

Natasha cleared her throat, and Sam started. Of course, she was waiting for him to fulfill his end of the bargain. Well, that was easy enough. He was only wearing a T-shirt, after all, and it only took a moment for him to grab his collar and yank it over his head.

“Mmf,” Natasha said, or something like, and a moment later she had a hand back on his abs, this time pressing firmly. Sam liked being teased as much as the next guy--maybe more; he didn’t know how Steve felt about it--but he was glad she wasn’t testing the limits of his tickle reflex.

Steve slid in behind Sam and added his hands to Natasha’s, pulling Sam’s back to his chest, and that much skin-to-skin contact was as intoxicating as half a bottle of wine. He reached out and pulled Natasha down for a kiss.

It was a different kiss from Steve’s; there was less off-handed confidence and more of a challenge, but the kind of challenge he had to rise and meet--the kind of challenge he _wanted_ to rise and meet.

No pun intended--that ship had sailed sometime around when Steve had lost his shirt.

Sam rested his hands on Natasha’s hips, half his fingers above her belt and half on it, and then slid his hands slowly upward until they were on her back, just below her bra strap. He broke the kiss long enough to say, “May I?” and, at her hissed _Yesss_ , unhooked the back and slid the straps down her arms.

Steve made a strangled noise in his throat, and Natasha laughed, low and seductive. “You can touch,” she said, and Steve immediately did, reaching around Sam to pull her close and cup her breasts in his hands.

Natasha was pretty well stacked, but Steve’s hands were just that _big_ , and yeah, someday Sam would get used to it, but at the moment he was just going to duck his head and kiss the soft point of Natasha’s shoulder. He would have kissed the bare circle of skin left between Steve’s fingers and thumb, but he couldn’t quite reach, pressed between them again as he was.

He kept his eyes on Natasha’s face as Steve caressed her, and her eyelids lowered and her lips parted. Although he probably could have watched her forever, he put his hands over Steve’s and squeezed gently to make him stop after probably only a minute or so. “Hey,” he said before either of them could complain. “This is great but we’re still wearing too many clothes.”

Natasha scrambled off the bed--well, scrambled gracefully, if that was a thing--and started unzipping her boots; Steve, having already toed off his shoes while they were eating, stood and went straight for his belt. Sam lay down and tried to watch both of them as he shimmied out of his jeans.

He somehow missed Natasha’s underwear, but when she turned around to drape her clothing over the chair, Sam couldn’t stop himself from whistling. “Damn, that ass,” he said.

“Uh huh,” Steve said, and Sam turned to look at him.

“How is _your_ ass so small?” Sam asked. “Shit.”

Steve twisted halfway around to look at his own butt and said, “I don’t know.”

“What about yours?” Natasha said, crawling back on the bed. “C’mon, Wilson, show off.”

Sam just smirked and rolled over on the bed.

It was Steve’s turn to whistle, and Natasha ran a hand over Sam’s back and one cheek of his ass. “Not bad,” she said, one side of her mouth hitching up.

“Damn straight,” Sam said. He twisted to look at Steve and Natasha in turn and said, “Is there anything I need to know before we do this? Birth control, condoms, lube?”

Natasha tapped her arm. “Implant,” she said, “but we’re still using condoms, and I’ve got some in my bag. Also lube.”

“Good,” Sam said. “We’re gonna need it. Yeah?” he said, looking at Steve.

“I’d like that,” Steve said, reaching out a hand to touch Sam’s ass.

“Me too,” Sam said, a little bit rushed; he hadn’t been fucked in a long time but he wanted it, so much, right _now_. He wanted Steve to fuck him, maybe after he’d fucked Natasha; maybe while he ate Natasha out. 

Maybe both, damn.

“C’mere,” he said, “both of you.”

He rolled to his side and Natasha came in to face him, her nose almost touching his; Steve bracketed his back again, one of his giant hands dropping to Sam’s hip. Natasha slung her leg up over Sam’s, dragging herself closer, and Steve pressed in as well, and Sam groaned, caught between pushing himself forward towards Natasha’s heat or back against Steve’s thick, hard cock. He wanted both, so much, possibly at the same time, but right at that moment he sort of had to choose.

He kissed Natasha, as dirty as he could, his tongue exploring her mouth, and then ducked his head to kiss her breasts and then suck one nipple into his mouth. The new position conveniently made his ass stick out, right into Steve, who gripped Sam’s hips a little tighter and ground right back into him.

It was perfect, at least for him, until Natasha tugged his hand off her hip and pressed it between her thighs, his fingertips just grazing over the short-cropped reddish-brown curls there. “Touch me,” she said.

“Yeah?” Sam said, drawing one fingertip along the seam of her labia. “Like that?” He could feel where she was wet; not dripping, not yet, but enough that his fingers could glide easily over her skin.

“It’s a good start,” she said, and pulled his head up to kiss him again.

Steve chose that moment to bite the nape of Sam’s neck, just hard enough for him to feel it, and he gasped, his fingers pressing a little deeper into Natasha than he’d intended. But she hissed _Yessss_ again, and he collected a little more moisture before moving upwards to circle her clit with one fingertip.

They got a rhythm going, Steve grinding into Sam, Sam’s fingers rubbing Natasha with increasing speed; a few minutes in, though, she reached over Sam to slow Steve down and said, “I’m getting close.”

“What do you need, baby girl?” Sam asked.

She frowned at him, probably over the endearment, but just said, “More.”

“Harder, faster?”

“Both, just--a little to the left--yeah, there, oh, yes--don’t _stop_ ” Her legs were starting to tremble around his hand, just little twitches that let him know that she really _was_ close. Her head tipped back a little more, and the line of her throat was so tempting that he almost dropped his lips to her skin, but no; he wanted to see her come.

“Come on, Tasha, baby, fall apart for us,” he said. His hand was starting to cramp--it was a weird angle--but he could hold out just a little longer, just until she made it . . .

Which she did, not even a minute later, her thighs clamping around his hand, her mouth falling open as she let out her breath in a long sigh. But before she’d really finished, she pushed Sam’s hand down and said, “Inside me.”

Considering that was exactly where he wanted to be, Sam obeyed, rubbing a finger in the flood of wetness that had accompanied her orgasm and sliding it inside her.

“Oh, God, more, please,” she said, and someone less acquainted with her might have called it a whimper. 

Sam nodded. “We’ve got you, Tasha.” He uncurled a second finger and pressed it inside her, feeling her clench around him before relaxing. “That okay?”

“Yeah, that’s--that’s it,” she said, panting through her nose. “Maybe a third?”

“Maybe?”

“Definitely.”

He went a little slower as he pushed in his ring finger alongside the other two, but she just moaned and tossed her head from side to side. “Yes, Sam, _perfect_ , now _move_!”

He did, pulling his fingers out slowly and thrusting them back in, and she raised her hips to meet him, and then all of a sudden he was fucking her with his fingers and Steve was back grinding against his ass and it was almost too much, he couldn’t take this--

“Steve,” Natasha said, her teeth clenched, “the condoms and--oh!--lube are in the front pocket of my pack--yes! oh, that, yes!--and you should grab them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve said, and Natasha clenched around Sam’s fingers. He moved, and for a moment Sam mourned the loss of Steve’s heat at his back, but then Natasha did something that ended with him on top of her, his hips between her legs, his fingers still inside her, and he groaned.

“Natasha,” he said, leaning down to suck on one nipple. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Oh, God, yes,” she said, and whatever else she had been about to add got cut off by a condom packet landing on her chest, already torn open on one side. “Thanks, Steve,” she said. “Now get back here.”

“All right,” Steve said, and the bed dipped under his weight until he was stretched out along Natasha’s side again.

Sam twisted his fingers in preparation for pulling them out, but Natasha’s response--curling up into a ball and almost dropping the condom in order to grab his shoulders--was just so good that he had to do it again.

“Stop that,” Natasha said, two or three repetitions later; her voice was breathy and even lower than usual. She held out the condom on trembling fingers. “I can’t reach.”

Steve plucked it away before Sam could take it and, once Sam had sat far enough back, rolled it on quickly. “It’s lubricated,” he said. “Do you need any more?”

“I don’t think so,” Sam said, but looked to Natasha for the final determination.

“No,” she said. “I’m wet enough. Fingers out, cock in, come on!”

“Hold your horses,” Sam said, pulling his fingers out and licking them so they didn’t drip all over the place. “It’s not like we’re gonna turn back into mice at midnight.” He grabbed the base of his dick to keep the condom in place and sank into her slowly.

He watched her face the whole time, looking for signs of discomfort, but there weren’t any; she wrapped her legs around him before he’d even bottomed out and oh, there was no way he’d be able to hold out very long.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam took in short breaths through his nose; he felt a hand at his back, just above his ass, and that helped him concentrate on not coming his brains out like a teenager. “I bet you can get her to come again,” Steve said, while still rubbing circles on Sam’s back.

Sam chuckled, a little unsteadily. “That’s not helping, big guy.”

Steve’s fingers dug into Sam’s skin a little. “You want me to stop?”

“No,” Sam said, and buried his face in Natasha’s hair, breathing deeply.

“Don’t come,” Natasha said, her voice quiet as her lips were maybe an inch away from his ear. “I want to see you come with his cock in your ass.”

Sam groaned. “You can’t do that if you want me to hold off,” he said, his hips making tiny movements he was only sort of controlling. 

“You can do it,” Steve said, his hand stilling, a point of warmth and pressure rather than active sensation.

“Course I can,” Sam said, and lifted his head; he grinned at Steve before starting to move in a slow, languid movement.

He knew if he went slow and deep he could last all night, and he was hoping it would drive her wild; what helped even more was when Steve took his hand off of Sam’s back and slid it between them, his fingers tracing where Natasha was stretched around him for a moment before he moved his hand up to her clit and rubbing gently.

“More,” Natasha said, or rather _demanded_.

“Who?” Sam asked, but he sped up without waiting for the answer.

“Both of you,” she said, and squeezed her eyes shut.

Sam spared a moment to remind himself to thank Steve later; he wasn’t sure he could have held out long enough to get Natasha off again without help. He thrust into her over and over, as deep and as smooth as he could make it, and let her dig her nails into his shoulders and back as she shook with increasing intensity and finally cried out and came.

Sam bit his tongue almost hard enough to bleed to stop himself from coming. He shouldn’t have watched her face if he didn’t want to push himself to the edge, but he wanted to see, wanted to see her come in daylight as well as in the evening, wanted to see her rise over him in candlelight, Steve behind her, cupping her breasts--

\--wait. Where was all this coming from? This was . . .

Never mind. Not important. He pushed thoughts of future sexual encounters to the back of his mind and gave a couple of shallow thrusts before withdrawing completely and wedging himself between Natasha and Steve.

Steve obligingly moved his arm; he kissed Sam’s ear as Sam draped an arm over Natasha, who was still quaking a little as she took in air.

“Oh,” she said, a good minute later. “That was . . . that was excellent. God. I can’t think.”

Sam grinned. “Did I blow your mind, baby?”

“Yes,” Natasha said, no coyness at all. “Now let Steve do the same for you.”

Sam kissed her briefly before squirming around a hundred and eighty degrees to face Steve; the other man looked _hungry_ more than anything, and Sam found himself on his back with Steve over him mere seconds later.

“I’d blow you,” Steve said, looking down at him, “but Natasha mentioned you coming while I’m inside you, and we all seem to want that instead.”

His face was a little red, but it could have been the angle; in any case, clearly even if Steve didn’t talk about sex a lot, he still knew what he wanted, and Sam was fine with that.

Very fine.

“You could do both,” Sam said, “but I’m not sure I can hold out.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I thought not.” He knelt back and said, “Natasha, are you recovered yet?”

“No,” she said, and Sam smirked again. “Why, do you want me to hold him down?”

“I don’t think he needs to be held down,” Steve said, “but maybe he’d like something to hold onto?”

“Am I gonna need it?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Steve said.

“Okay.”

Natasha gave him her hands and Steve disposed of Sam’s used condom before slicking his fingers up and pressing one against Sam’s asshole. Fortunately, his body remembered how it went and he found himself bearing down against Steve before he could consciously think to do it.

One finger was easy and felt pretty good. Two was a little bit of a stretch, but Steve was patient and kept adding more lube until Sam thought they might slide off the bed. He said as much, and Natasha chuckled, squeezing his hands, but Steve only gave a distracted smile, still intent on Sam’s face and body.

“This okay? Too much? You’re pretty tight.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s been a while, and no, that’s not too much. You can add a third.”

Steve watched his face for a moment before giving a short nod. “I trust you.” He added even more lube, half of which Sam was pretty sure was all over his thighs and the bedspread, and slid a third finger in, grazing over Sam’s prostate as he did so.

Sam yelped and pushed against Natasha’s hands. “Are you okay?” Steve asked.

Sam nodded furiously. “Prostate. Do that again.” It did burn a little, but in the good way.

Steve did, crooking his fingers inside Sam, and _oh_ , it made him see stars and lightning. He let Steve play around for a bit--well, ‘let’ being the wrong word; he enjoyed every moment of it, especially the moments that made him bite back a scream. Nonetheless, he reached down and grabbed Steve’s wrist after not too long and said, “I’m ready, man.”

“You sure?” Steve said, twisting his fingers and making Sam gasp.

“You said you trusted me,” Sam said. “C’mon.”

Steve gave a rueful half-smile. “Yeah, okay.” He slid his fingers out, accepted the fresh condom that Natasha had grabbed somehow, rolled it on, and slicked himself up.

Sam watched avidly; it was hot, what he was doing, but he liked watching Steve move anyway. He liked watching the muscles in his arms and shoulders and chest work. He liked watching Steve in general.

He liked Steve. And Natasha. Which wasn’t really much of a revelation, but _felt_ like one.

It took Sam a moment to stuff all that back where it belonged, somewhere where he could examine it at his leisure but not right now, but he did so, and by then Steve was ready and had reached down and rubbed Sam’s hip. “Like this okay, or do you want to flip over?”

“This is fine,” Sam said; he did want to see Steve’s face. “But if you just can’t get enough of my ass . . .” He waggled his eyebrows, and Steve laughed. 

“I like this way, too,” Steve said, leaning down to kiss Sam. “Ready?”

“I’ve _been_ ready,” Sam said, wiggling one leg up around Steve’s hips. “Come on. Fuck me.”

Steve’s eyes widened, more in arousal than shock, and he dropped a hand to guide himself inside of Sam.

The little furrow between Steve’s brows that never quite seemed to leave deepened as he pushed inside; Sam was concentrating on bearing down and remembering to breathe, because yeah, Steve was a super soldier all over, but he still had enough brain to watch Steve’s face. “I’m fine,” he said on a gasp, even though Steve hadn’t asked. “Keep going.”

“Big, isn’t he,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, well, you’ll get your turn to ride,” Sam said, and Steve gave a huff of laughter as he bottomed out.

“Legs up,” he said to Sam, who hitched his other leg around Steve’s hips. “Ready, or do you want me to hang on for a second?”

“Just for a second,” Sam said. He could feel his body adjusting but it was taking a moment. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; as he let it out, he felt soft lips near his ear. “You look so good stretched out around his cock,” Natasha said, low and dirty.

“Damn right,” Sam said, and opened his eyes to look at Steve. “You can move now.”

“Oh, _good_ ,” Steve said, and swooped down to kiss Sam--and Natasha, which made sense since she was right there--before pulling out slowly.

He set up his own rhythm, just as languorous as Sam’s had been with Natasha, and hit Sam’s prostate probably every third stroke.

It was fine. It was great. Sam was gonna _die_ if he didn’t go faster.

“More,” Sam said, taking one of his hands out of Natasha’s and reaching up to cup Steve’s jaw. “I can take it.”

“I don’t want you to take it,” Steve said, his words punctuated with the end of a thrust. “I want you to _enjoy_ it.”

“You want me to beg?” Sam asked, one eyebrow raising.

“Well, that would be nice,” Steve said, “but--”

“Steve, _please_ ,” Sam said, cutting him off. “C’mon, man, fuck me like you mean it, like you want me as much as I want you, like you can’t get enough of me the way I can’t--” He stopped, a little unclear where those words had come from or where they were going, but it was apparently enough for Steve, who was moving a lot faster now.

“Sam, oh, God, yes, talk to me,” Steve was saying as he thrust, a trickle of sweat running down his chest just between his pectorals. “Tell me this is working for you.”

“Oh, it’s working, Steve, baby, it’s working, I’m getting close.” He was--not close enough to come, but certainly well along that path. He’d lost his erection for a little bit while Steve was opening him up, but it had come back with a vengeance.

“Need a hand?” Natasha breathed into his ear, and he nodded. “Keep talking,” she advised as she reached between them and wrapped her hand around his dick. “It’s working for him. And me, if you want the truth.”

Sam huffed a little, although he couldn’t quite manage laughter with Steve-- _oh_ \--attempting to break him in half in the best way possible. “Jesus, Steve, you feel so good,” he said in between pants. Natasha jerking him off had him getting close to orgasm faster than he thought possible. “So hot, so huge inside me--”

“Tell him you need him,” Natasha said. “That’ll work better.”

Sam resisted for a second--it seemed a little, well, a little on point--but then Steve surged forward and hit an angle that was particularly amazing, and words started pouring out. “God, Steve, I need you, just a little bit more, a little bit harder, yes, please, need you to _fuck_ me, make me come--”

Steve groaned and shuddered. “What do you need, Sam? What do you need?”

“Just a little bit more--just--right there--”

“Him,” Natasha murmured in his ear. “Say you need _him_.”

“I need you, Steve, I need _you_ \--” And right then, in a miracle of timing that Sam couldn’t possibly have planned, he came, waves of pleasure rolling through him, white stripes of come all over Natasha’s hand and halfway up his chest.

“Sam!” Steve shuddered again, and this time he was coming, too, a few last thrusts finishing him off. He rested his head on Sam’s chest for maybe a count of three before pushing himself up; Sam reached up and rubbed a thumb along the curve of his biceps.

When Steve slid out it was as unpleasant as Sam had remembered, but once Steve had dealt with the condom he was right back in the bed, pulling Natasha into the mess on Sam’s abs and chest. It said something that she didn’t complain, just kissed Steve back, and Sam put his hands on both of them and couldn’t possibly think about anything other than how lucky he was.

Steve settled in against Sam’s shoulder, still breathing a little fast, and Natasha used some discarded bit of clothing to mop herself off before doing the same. Sam didn’t even bother, although he was well aware that it wouldn’t be fun to unstick himself later. Now that they were done, the need to nap was hitting hard and fast. “You good?” he asked Natasha.

“I’m great,” she said, a little breathily.

“You?”

“Never better,” Steve said, his hand resting on Natasha’s on top of Sam’s chest.

“Good, ‘cause I’m great--really, really great--too and I’m gonna fall the fuck asleep now. Wake me up for round two.”

“There’s a round two?” he heard Steve ask as he drifted off.

“You think I’m not gonna ride that, Rogers, you have another think coming.”

The last thing Sam remembered before he fell asleep was feeling Steve chuckle against his side.

\--

The next morning, Natasha dragged them all out of bed before sunrise and drove through a nearby Caribou Coffee before pitching them out of the car at Edgewater Park. “This is a good view of Lake Erie,” she said, holding her caramel macchiato in one hand and gesturing out to the dark-blue expanse of water.

“Huh,” Sam said. The sun was just rising to their right, over by the skyline of the city of Cleveland, and the lake was starting to take on some of the brilliant colors. To the north it was all water; to the east and west was the coastline, but the lake obviously stretched on far beyond his ability to see. “This is actually pretty impressive. Bigger than I thought.”

“If we’re still headed for Chicago,” Natasha said, “Lake Michigan’s even bigger.”

“I can’t really see how it could get better,” Steve said, and when Sam turned to him, he was looking at Sam and Natasha and not the water.

Sam grinned at him. “We’ll just have to find out, won’t we.”

**Author's Note:**

> All locations are accurate as of the last time I was in the area. [Melt Bar & Grilled](http://meltbarandgrilled.com/) exists. [Natasha's bra](http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d5/07/67/d50767a7af553eb5663edb8c18e2342a.jpg) (NSFW-ish) did come with matching panties and they are very cute.


End file.
